Mitchell's Mustard Blog

February 8, 2012

I Will Never Forget . . . .

Filed under: Random — Tags: , , , , , — mitchellsmustard @ 5:44 pm

I stumble through doorways into rooms filled with more unrecognisable faces, not surprising really as they were all friends of hers. I’ve seen a lot of drugs in my time but this party seemed to hold a huge amount that could have been the source of  an overdose for any inexperienced person. I loved the music that was bounced from wall to wall, that’s one good thing I took from the night. Everywhere I looked there were people, five people sitting on a two seat sofas, people cross-legged on the floor in corners, people sitting on tables and window sills, people trying to pass each other in the space left in the room. They all had the same expression, smile on the face but no thought at all. Tables laced with cocaine, rolled up bank notes and the occasional McDonalds straw from those who were skint. Everyone wanted to share their wealth but always expected something in return, watching young skint smack heads sniffing around the table for anything left over once the group had moved on. The more I watched this the less I wanted to claim my place at the table. Re rolling a £20 note in my fingers again and again just staring at the hounds around the glass table, something was stirring my addiction. My feet felt heavy but something dragged me from the room, paranoia made it as if the music was turned off as they all watched me creep out of the room with a firm grip on my £20 straw. They were all too busy and hammered to notice I had moved. In the hallway it seemed to be a more relaxed environment, this was where they must have come to chill out but the more people who needed a moment away meant that this room was slowly becoming as busy as all the others. I need to find her, not because I missed her it was more craving comfort of seeing a face I recognised. Again I found myself squeezing through rooms of people I didn’t know, the less I wanted to get high the more uncomfortable I became.

I found her after a while standing in one of the many overcrowded rooms, the look on her face was one I will remember as she looked lost and out of depth . She would never admit it to save face but in the years I’d seen her high tonight she looked troubled. I caught her eye and I hinted to us leaving, as I walked towards her she looked confused and her facial expression reminded me of a child that didn’t understand. As I stepped closer she seemed to lose her balance, in slow motion I watched her fall to her knees as people around her moved out of her way. I managed to catch her head before it hit the floor, people moved but they all still held the expression of a smile with no thought. A couple of people panicked like I did and one ran off to get some water. I sat there with all sorts of questions running through my head, what had she taken? What can I do? Someone around us passed me the glass of water so I sat her up to try get her to drink. She was sick into the glass as I held it to her mouth, it was lime green in colour and when that mixed with the water it reminded me of a lava lamp. She had taken something that disagreed with her; part of me wished I had got high when I had the chance. I’m sitting on the floor in the middle of a crowded room surrounded by strangers with a half conscious girl in my lap and people just worked their way around us like it was a normal part of the evening, what could I do? I thought of ringing for an ambulance but the last thing anyone under this roof wanted was one of the emergency services knocking on the door. I thought through my options and rang a taxi, no one seemed to notice or care that this was happening. On my way out carrying this girl in my arms I was stopped by a bloke who I thought was going to ask if he could help but instead he asked me if I had a lighter.

I climbed into the taxi carrying the girl and the taxi driver refused to have her in the car, I don’t know why he changed his mind but he looked me in the face and saw something. By this time she was trying to talk but making no sense, I was terrified of what was to come. The ride home seemed to go so quickly, I remember getting in to the cab and I was looking down and talking to her as she lay across the seat with her head on my lap and then within minutes we were outside my house. I paid the taxi driver and thanked him as I climbed out of the car with the girl in my arms. In the house we were in the warmth, I laid her down on my bed and made sure she wasn’t in the position to swallow her tongue. I sat next to her all night twitching at every noise or movement she made, every change in her breathing pattern had me on edge. As the night went on she made less movement, fewer changes in her breathing and I started to fall asleep in fear of what the morning may bring.

I stirred in the morning with the sun light bursting through the gaps in the curtains; suddenly all of what happened the night before came rushing back to me. I panicked for a second and looked around but to my relief she was sat up and looking at me.

“Rough night was it? You look like shit.” She said.



  1. I just read all your posts – you should really do a creative writing course you have good ideas – some of your work needs editing… Lyn X

    Comment by lynettefranceshumphrey — September 24, 2012 @ 11:50 pm

    • Thanks lovely. Yes, I need to work on my grammar. Thanks for reading, I haven’t done anything recently but I’ve promised myself to find time x

      Comment by mitchellsmustard — September 28, 2012 @ 10:51 am

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